


The Satinalia Gift

by missema



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gift Fic, Satinalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a present for my Dragon Age Fandom Secret Santa.  One of her OTPs was Finn/Dagna, whom I just love, so I wrote a short story about Dagna's first Satinalia at the Circle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Satinalia Gift

It had been some time since she’d left her home to come here, as an invited guest but an almost unknown quantity by nearly all of the inhabitants here.  Dagna, a dwarf of the Smith Caste, wasn’t the person most likely to be found in a Circle of Magi, but there she was, working and studying with the Tranquil in Kinloch Hold.

At first there had been questions from just about everyone, so many questions that Irving asked her if she didn’t mind speaking to the group as a whole, for many of them had never even seen a dwarf before and that might stop some of the more repeated questions.  Gamely, she accepted the offer, and feeling a bit like an animal on display, she stood in front of the assembled mages with a large smile and answered question after question about dwarven culture, lyrium smithing and even a few about herself. 

Surfacers were a curious, inquisitive bunch and she couldn’t help but smile at some of their questions.  Oh, if only there was some kind of exchange, where people could go to Orzammar and study, truly understand her culture, Dagna lamented more than once.  She had never given much thought to her home, the last capital of a once mighty empire, a city carved into a mountain, made of stone and flowing rivers of lava. 

Strangely it was the lava she missed the most, the molten rock keeping the city around the same temperature, casting a burnished copper glow across all the shops and people in the Commons.  It was bright here on the surface and variable.  The sun didn’t shine everyday, nor did the daylight last as long as the seasons changed.

After she talked to the crowd of people, mages and templars alike, interest from the general populace in the tower died down.   The sight of Dagna studying and working amongst them became ordinary, commonplace.

But he never could get comfortable around her, sweat broke out on his brow whenever he got near to her.  During his few, futile attempts at speaking to her, he cringed as he heard his voice go up an octave in a nervous falsetto and he ended their conversations quickly. 

When Finn came back from the Dragonbone Wastes, he finally had something to talk to her about.  He’d stumbled into her at the library before, many times in fact, but had always been tongue-tied and stammering as they tried to talk about Tevinter lore or magical history and rushed away to spare himself further embarrassment. 

He’d found himself hiding amongst the stacks, just gazing at her sometimes instead of trying to talk.  He was enchanted by her messy auburn hair, the enthusiastic, welcoming smile that made his palms sweat, pretty grey eyes and cute, impish nose.  She was short, pert and beautifully rounded, her dwarven curves hugged by the simple clothes she wore.  Finn committed it all to memory, recalling it when he was in the relative privacy of his quarters, having erudite conversations with her in his mind.  Those were the times he’d wished he were smarter, had more to say and the confidence to say it, but he didn’t know how to make it happen.

Upon his return, he knew what he’d say to her; they could talk about his journey to Cadash Thaig and the lore he’d found there.  It had been a gorgeous, ornate stone thaig, filled with forgotten history and mysteries hidden from the Shaperate.  Finn would differentiate himself from the people that were merely curious about her culture, show her that he was interested, that he wanted to know more about it all, especially her.

And they talked, they spoke at length about everything he’d learned, had seen when he’d been out with the Warden-Commander.  As it turned out, they even talked about the Commander, for it had been she that obtained Irving’s permission for Dagna, allowing her to come to the Circle Tower.  It became easier, and the sight of the two of them speaking enthusiastically, arms flailing as one of the pair gesticulated passionately to make a point, became ordinary, commonplace.

Dagna stood in the library, deep within the stacks of books, almost hidden as she studied the tome that a taller Tranquil had retrieved from a shelf much too high for her.  It was a musty, old book and Dagna relished the smell as she carefully turned the brittle, yellowed pages.  The library had been decorated for the holiday and Dagna loved that smell too, the books mingled with greenery that festooned the shelving.  It was for the Satinalia celebration, a holiday she had no concept of, but as with nearly everything in the human world, she wanted to learn about it.

For a week, lessons were abandoned and there was much revelry and singing throughout the tower.  People were giving gifts to one another, and there seemed to be an order to the gift giving, a significance she didn’t understand.  Apprentices gave their mentors gifts, templars usually gave within their own ranks, though she did see a few gifts between mages and their watchers, but the Tranquil never gave gifts, though Owain received a few that he regarded in his normal, detached manner.  Dagna didn’t understand why there was a week of celebration in the middle of a season where the darkness prevailed outside and there was no growth, only the powdery accumulation of snow on the frozen ground.

That’s what the book was for, to help her learn about the origins of the holiday.  Dagna figured if she was going to learn, she might as well start at the beginning.  It was interesting, people gave a series of gifts and feasted, but she was still having trouble understanding why.  The festival began in Tevinter, but it wasn’t noted why the ancient Tevinters started giving gifts in a week-long celebration that seemed to end up in a drunken orgy from the pictures in the book.  Stone help her, though she was curious about humans, she hoped that the party here would be a little more sedate than those pictured in the heavy, historical tome that weighed down her hand.

Behind her, Finn approached, unheard as she stood engrossed in the book.  He was nervous again, and it surprised him, because he had long since ceased to be anxious in Dagna’s presence, in fact, most of the time he found her calming.

“Uh, hi Dagna.”  Finn spoke softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi Finn!”  Dagna smiled at him and Finn swallowed.  Breathing was harder than normal for him right now.

“I have this for you.”  Finn held out a package, wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon.  “It’s for Satinalia.”  He offered when she didn’t take it immediately.

“Oh, thank you!  I was just reading about Satinalia, trying to learn more about it.”  Dagna admitted, closing the book with one hand as she reached out and took the proffered present.

“You’re welcome.  I know something about the history of the celebration, maybe I can answer your questions.”

“Why do you give gifts?  If it’s just a celebration, why the gifts?”  Dagna asked.  Finn hesitated, looking at his feet for a moment before he answered.

“You only give gifts to people that are close to you, to people that you care about.”  He answered in a restrained voice, as if what he wasn’t saying was more important than what he’d just said.  Dagna looked up past the lanky body into his thin face, unsure as to what he meant.

“I understand that, but why?”  Dagna asked, still confused.

“It’s a celebration of all that’s cherished, the things that were good about the past year.”  Finn replied.  Something finally clunked into place in Dagna’s mind and she realized what she’d just been given.  Her first Satinalia gift.   She searched Finn’s dark brown eyes for confirmation and in finding it, let a slow smile spread across her face.

“If you only give gifts to people you care about, then I’m going to have to find you something amazing.”  Dagna said and was answered by Finn’s beaming face, a large, triumphant smile lighting his features.  She carefully put her book on a lower shelf, then took the present in one hand and held out her other to Finn.  He took it, his larger, slender fingers intertwined with her own as they moved out of their secluded section of the library.

“Are there any other things I should know about this holiday?”  She asked, her voice bubbling with mirth.  “I want to make sure I don’t miss a thing!”


End file.
